"Not at all!" said Marcella; "you are rude to Betty, and disagreeable to me, by which I suppose that you are unhappy. But why should you be allowed to show your feelings, when other people don't?"
Frank fairly groaned.
"Well," he said, making efforts at a tragic calm, and looking for his hat, "you will, none of you, be troubled with me long. I shall go home to-morrow, and take my ticket for California the day after."
"You," said Marcella, "go to California! What right have you to go to California?"
"What right?" Frank stared, then he went on impetuously. "If a girl torments a man, as Betty has been tormenting me, there is nothing for it, I should think, but to clear out of the way. I am going to clear out of the way, whatever anybody says."
"And shoot big game, I suppose—amuse yourself somehow?"
Frank hesitated.
"Well, a fellow can't do nothing," he said helplessly. "I suppose I shall shoot."
"And what right have you to do it? Have you any more right than a public official would have to spend public money in neglecting his duties?"
Frank stared at her.